Follow the Moon
by Rayless Night
Summary: Neither was meant to be hers. Star, the beacon of protection and trust. Moon, the assassin's eye, the light of betrayal. Elza stole them both.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I've never played either Suikogaiden, so much of my knowledge of Elza's backstory comes from the info provided by the Suikoden wiki and the suikosource and suikox websites. However, that's not a substitute for actually seeing events firsthand, so I apologize if anything I've written here is contradicted by the gaidens. _

_As a structural note: This was written as a oneshot, but because of its high word count, I've broken it into several parts. The scenes are meant to be read in the order I've set them, but I've also numbered them chronologically in case you want clarification. _

_Suikoden is the property of Konami. Rating is for violence, suggestive themes, and language. Some content may be disturbing and/or triggering. Lines from Suikoden and Suikoden II have been paraphrased._

* * *

><p><strong>Follow the Moon<br>**

* * *

><p><strong>19<strong>

I'd been careless.

That could be corrected. It helped to think so as I lay back, determined not to flinch. Even here, where I knew the doctor's seen every manner of weakness, it was like the trainers were still watching me and I couldn't cry out. If you cry out, they'll oblige you and make it hurt worse.

I flinched once, up from my shoulders, and the surgeon _tsk_ed as she readjusted her fingers on the needle. Poked it through the skin of my cheek, patiently stitching from my right temple to my left, from pulse to pulse.

"How'd you manage _this_?" was what she'd said to me between "Let me take a look" and "Lie back", followed by, "Lie as still as you can".

As I said: I let my guard down.

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>

There were three of us left.

Year by year, lesson by lesson, all of the other children in our class had been cut down: accidents in training, gangrened wounds they were too frightened to mention, sickness in the barracks. And the punishments. We three had taken shelter in the fact that we were surviving, we were among the best, and look, there were plenty of other apprentices as worried as we were.

But they were all gone now, and only the three of us remained.

I remember whispering to the other two, partly a joke, but really a very frightened truth: "I'm going to hate it if we all die."

I believe that's what I said. Sometimes I remember it as, "I won't let us die."

* * *

><p><strong>1<strong>

I was five years old when sold by my parents, one of the many children who came from the outside world to the Howling Voice Guild. What most of the world called a tower, we called a garden, and the low-ranking gunners who oversaw the young initiates styled themselves gardeners. They made hardship a privilege and inflexibility a point of pride. If you had skill but overstepped yourself, they punished you swiftly. Yet they killed their students even more quickly, a chastisement and an ultimate dismissal at once. And a warning to the others.

I shut my teeth on my fear and trained harder so that I wouldn't be next. But I could never relax, knowing there was no one to put my back against. I already understood that you can fight as hard as you can, but you cannot truly protect yourself when you're alone.

Then there was Kelley. Kelley was strong, but he was never good at his hiding his feelings, so we knew he could be hurt. As for the first one who died in our class, it was a girl. She had been training alongside Kelley, the two of them set up with quarterstaffs against one of the gardeners. The girl was small, chosen for her quick mind and accuracy with a slingshot rather than for her endurance. She was tiring, faltering badly, and Kelley kept edging in front of her, taking as many of the hits for her as he could get in. We were all around six or seven then. Her name was Jenna, I believe.

The gardener stepped back, fighting defensively, drawing Kelley into an attack, and Jenna hung back, trying to catch her breath. And the gardener slid his foot – a very smooth sort of accident – overextended his swing and hit her across the neck. Some of us laughed. Seeing another apprentice get punished broke up the often monotonous training sessions. But I also heard the snap, and I saw how Jenna dropped. As if for a moment the length of her spine was unstrung, and she fell, her face and neck bent under her shoulder.

Jenna taught us how easily we would be killed, whether as full-fledged guild members or as students. There would be more after her. After a while, it became less of a shock and more of an inevitability. Soldiers in a battle, though all may hope to return home, understand that some of them will still die. We knew that too.

But Kelley. That night after Jenna, he was in his corner of the floor, sobbing into his pallet. I was awake, and I heard some of the others uneasily shifting in their blankets. We didn't cry much any more, used to punishments, home a distant memory, and sympathy could easily harden into contempt. I wish I knew something to say to make him stop. I always thought sleep was the best healing, better than a resurrection rune, because for a while you forgot everything. If he slept, Kelley could forget that he'd been there, had seen the staff connect with her neck. Maybe seen her eyes.

I opened my own eyes when I heard, amidst all the whispers, a shushing sound – someone's pallet being dragged across the floorboards. I lifted myself onto one elbow just in time to see a blond boy, Clive, he was so small then, spread out his pallet and lie down next to Kelley. The others had stopped whispering for a moment. Then it started up again. Some of it sounded scornful. If a gardener had seen Clive then, he might've seen this show of sympathy as the ultimate liability and we would have lost another apprentice that night. I lay back, trying to feel disdain, trying not to feel heartsick. And for the first time in a long time, I couldn't ignore how hard the floor was and how cold my shoulders were, and how much I still missed listening to my brother and sister breathing as they slept.

The whispers stopped again. I didn't meet anyone's eyes as I hoisted my pallet under my arm and picked my way across the dark room. I did see the hard edge of Clive's eye as he half-rolled to watch me, and I knew he was daring me to try something, kick Kelley or laugh or call him soft. Parrot the gardeners and talk about how if we died it meant we were weak and it was our own fault.

I knelt down on Kelley's other side, tight against the wall, and smoothed out my pallet. Kelley was lying on his stomach, and he glanced at me, face splotchy, and folded his arms up so that neither Clive nor I could see his face. I curled up next to him, careful not to touch. By then the whispers had started again.

So I did some whispering of my own. "It wasn't your fault."

Kelley choked – sobbing again, I think – and Clive hissed, "Shut up, Elza." He'd never really talked to either of us before then, and already he saw that I was making things more painful for Kelley. And already I guessed he was right.

I watched Kelley as he got himself under control, his breaths steady if wet. He swallowed, then whispered, very softly, "This place is rotten."

"That's not true," Clive said on his other side.

* * *

><p><strong>21<strong>

Neither pistol was meant to be mine. Star and Moon. I stole them both.

I'd seen them before, the ancient dueling pistols of the Howling Voice Guild in their wooden case. Star, the beacon of protection and trust. Moon, the assassin's eye, the light of betrayal. Kelley had implacably lifted Moon, leaving me with Star, leaving me with an absurd sentimentality over the both of them. The guns. And them, yes: Clive and Kelley.

In all this walking, the long nights in rough inn rooms, and glancing into shadows, I've thought a lot about the guns and why they're named so. The stars, in their tightly bound constellations, shift all together through the sky, rise and fall as one. I suppose the moon is troubling for changing on its own.

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>

People in the Guild boast how Master Sauro's students puke blood before they turn up the best in the business. I was one of those kids. And Kelley and Clive were not supposed to be there in the girls' lavatory with me after that one training session, but they followed my wavering steps because they were lapdogs who had nothing better to do. Kelley was holding my hair and rubbing my back, for pity's sake, and Clive was just watching cross-legged on the floor with this seriousness that was somehow professional. And I was puking so hard some dribbled out of my nose, and that's where the blood came in. It was from my nose, that's all.

No big deal.

* * *

><p><strong>8<strong>

Hell. I loved watching him sleep. Because when he was serious, when he was in deadly earnest, when he tried to convince me, Clive was more likely to make me laugh. When he dropped that, was distracted, wasn't pushing himself to be perfect, was him at his best. Relaxed and remote from himself, with no reason to be self-righteous and defensive. At the same time, I always wanted to see him run himself to the limit. He is a fantastic gunner. What a beauty.

And somehow, without even training myself to do it, I always woke up before him. When it was still dark, and I could watch the light gradually find his features.

* * *

><p><strong>11<strong>

I noticed before Clive did. I always do.

It wasn't just that Kelley had less time for us. All of us were of age, had graduated, and after that leap, the elders supposed we could be trusted to take on jobs by ourselves. Sometimes we'd gone together, but just as often we split up. I remember that first time, we were fifteen, and Clive and Kelley went on a job to Marid and I went south all the way to Lenankamp. And at first I just kept taking in the scenery and the gorgeous novelty of being alone. I think it was the first time in my life. Master Sauro would've shot me, but I whistled my way from Rockaxe to Muse. My first time alone in an inn, careful not to get drunk, careful not to look _new_ at any of this. Swallowing a delighted shock when, town after town, guys kept trying to pick me up, me with a Howling Voice pistol hidden under my cloak. But after a while, heading through Southwindow, traveling down Scarlet Moon, I dimmed. I got tired of all that walking, all the checking over my shoulder because there was no one to guard it. Only having myself to talk to, and always thinking damn you, boys, where are you?

But after a few years, I was better used to it, and I think Clive was born used to being alone. Kelley made the best of it.

Then Kelley was raised to Guild Master. Before, we were three gunners, separate but still friends. Still equals. Now Kelley was master.

I felt uneasy when he didn't come to my room to celebrate with us, but I supposed he had to drink with the elders.

"He might as well. It's their fault."

Clive, on the other side of the low bench we used as a table, shot me a sharp look. "It's a matter of _fault_?"

I watched him, his frown, and leaned back so I could feel the late glare of the sun coming through the window. "Jealous, handsome? How far would you go to become Guild Master?"

Clive rolled his eyes. "Don't complain. The Guild's in good hands now."

True enough. There hadn't been a Guild Master for years, no young Knight Gunner to take up Storm, the sacred rifle. But the three of us had all passed our trial, been raised to Knight rank, and the elders should be grateful they'd had their choice of Guild Master. If it had been only me, they knew some of them would have been in trouble.

Still. There Clive sat across from me, ruining a perfectly good cork as he tried to get the wine bottle open. Not so hot with beverages but hot as hell with a gun, and tracking, and spying, and above all respecting the Guild's laws. Always the designated leader when he was sent out in a group, always discreet, and always accurate.

I tipped my head back against the wall and for a long time wondered if I should ask it.

"Why Kelley?"

"Kelley's a Knight Gunner."

"We're all Knight Gunners."

Clive hesitated before he poured the wine. "He gets into less trouble."

I laughed, and, seeing Clive's raised eyebrow, I think this time he actually welcomed it. He had a point. The Guild all knew what I thought of Masters Dareb and Cathari, and even Clive had pulled rank in the field, once. Kelley just went sweet and smooth as honey.

"Well." I rocked forward and crossed my legs, reaching for my glass, not bothering to make a toast. "Maybe now we'll all get into less trouble."

And I'll admit a little relief when Kelley came in an hour later, sheepish and happy. Clive broke into this wide smile, so clearly it was an occasion for more wine. Kelley was smiling himself, but he kept his eyes down, too abashed and flattered to look at either of us.

When I said something about Master Dareb's scowl souring half the wine in the garden, Kelley did look up. He grinned, then shrugged. "Eh. The elders aren't so bad."

That didn't seem to bother Clive. But Clive will never be me.

* * *

><p><strong>9<strong>

The first time Clive caught me watching him while he slept, his eyelashes fluttered, then his eyes shot open and he hitched his shoulders. "What the hell?"

"What _what the hell_?"

His eyes tracked around my room, looking for who knows what. He slumped but was still a little spooked. "It's like you're sighting me from a blind."

I was propped up on my elbows, looking down at him. "There's no room for a sniper's rifle here." I rolled over, presenting my back, which, in the training ring, would have been no small insult. "Honestly, Clive. I never should have left Kelley."

Now he sat up, voice rising and incredulous. "What?"

"Me and Kelley. Before you." I closed my eyes. "He didn't take everything so seriously."

I could feel him staring, and, really, I should have opened my eyes just so I could see his face. But I heard the flatness in his voice. "You were a virgin the first time we –"

He stopped reasoning with me when I started laughing. He usually did.

* * *

><p><strong>5<strong>

When we were sixteen, there was a bad job. Not in its basics: a rogue Temple Guard on the run from an especially vengeful bishop's wife. But we had to take business into Rockaxe, and the elders thought it better if we worked in a group, rather than give any appearance of a lone gunner randomly killing a man in the knights' city. So Clive and I were dispatched, but we went under the command of Aulay, a gunner some years older than us. He was huge and quick with a blond beard and a heavy jaw. He had an easy way with him, made good conversation, but he didn't spare any time making sure his partners kept up with him, or were all right.

Everything went well enough until the Temple Guard drew us out of Rockaxe's alleys into an inn's backyard. Clive and I didn't wait for Aulay's orders; we both peeled off, trying to come in from opposite sides, a pretty standard strategy. There were some people there, two grooms standing up quickly, shocked. Most people have never even heard of a gun, let alone seen three at once.

The Temple Guard fell back against the high rock wall, spinning to face Aulay and met a bullet in his chest. Clive and I both lowered our guns – and I turned in time to see one of the grooms running forward, shouting something at Aulay.

Who flung himself around and shot the groom in the stomach, clear through his spine. The man fell – Aulay swore – then shot him in the head.

I'd heard the shots, but Clive's voice was the first sound I really registered. "What – ?"

Aulay looked over at the other groom, who was staring blankly at his fallen friend. With a tired breath, Aulay sighted and shot him in the forehead.

"What are you doing?" Clive shouted.

"Listen, the elders will know we did it," Aulay said, staring with dissatisfaction at the three bodies. "But it'll go better if we're the only witnesses."

"You want us to lie to the elders?" I said, unsure whether or not I should buy this. "We should say what, these two grooms came at you with riding crops?"

"It was a –" Aulay cut himself off. It was a reflex, of course, he'd shot that groom on nothing more than adrenaline.

"You should be killed for this."

Clive startled me. I looked at him, his gun lowered but his body set, glaring at Aulay with more vehemence than I'd ever seen from him.

"What are you saying there?" Aulay asked, a new snap to his voice.

"You lost control on a job." You lost control while working for the Howling Voice Guild and killed a bystander. It was far worse than losing control and crying during training, or panicking and losing a duel. Enough people inside and outside of Harmonia were upset by the Guild's existence, and when they didn't pay us to guard their hides and do their dark work, they were looking for a reason to bring us down.

"You think you're going to go back and say so?" He didn't cower or equivocate. I could see his knuckles whiten over the grip of his gun.

Clive lifted his rifle to his shoulder. I didn't laugh at his seriousness. My blood was rushing. "As an officer of the Howling Voice Guild," Clive said, "I will either return you to the garden, or I will end your life here and now."

Aulay glanced my way. I lifted my pistol.

Aulay aimed at me. I'm not sure what he was thinking, perhaps that it would distract Clive. I rolled and shot. Clive just shot. Aulay fired again. Then he staggered. Two bullets, one in Aulay's stomach, one breaking his collar bone.

Killing a fellow gunner is also punishable by death, but that can be overlooked when it's done to protect the Guild's interests. I kept telling myself that as we removed Aulay's weapons and wallet, and I pressed a flame scroll to his face to obliterate his features. Then we made our escape, me following Clive's dark shape through the alleys. He didn't slow down, but he did look back.

And no one talked until we were out of the city and had gotten a few miles north, a few miles closer to home. Then Clive stopped by the wreckage of an old stone fence and looked as if he wanted to wreak it a bit more.

"Hey," I said. "Hey, come on. We have to keep moving."

"Damn him." Clive was breathing harshly. "A full-fledged member of the Guild. How could he just –?"

"It happens."

"It shouldn't be allowed to happen! The Guild shouldn't initiate gunners who can't even control their weapons."

I'd closed in on him, guarding his shoulder, though I don't think we were ever followed. I turned to face him, and then I was scared, because Clive never shows it if he can help it, and his head was down and his eyes were red. It was unfair of me to be surprised. He was just a kid. But he'd never cried, that was Kelley, and he didn't throw tantrums because that was my territory. He always just took what came because a perfect gunner is never limited by his surroundings. A perfect gunner is never thrown off his guard. A perfect gunner is never so upset that he just can't keep going.

"Hey, Clive. Clive, come on, it's okay. It's – damn you, you're bleeding!"

Clive pivoted so I couldn't see his left arm, but I shoved in between him and the wall, jerking back his cloak. Somehow Aulay's second shot must have winged him, but it wasn't deep, a long splatter of blood down his bicep.

"It's fine," Clive said, looking at neither it nor me. I stared at his profile, disheveled hair, sweat streaked across the bridge of his nose. I could feel him breathing, and I suddenly realized I'd pressed myself up against his shoulder. I didn't move, just wished I could get him to stop whatever thoughts were storming through his head. And, detachedly, thought of tipping my forehead under his jaw and letting him rest against me, not as a serious plan, just a nice idea. A nice idea I'd never had before because there'd been too much else to think about.

But I didn't and, poor boy, I don't think he noticed at all.

* * *

><p><strong>7<strong>

"No, I don't think you should," I remember Master Cathari saying.

I knew of her – at one point, every female apprentice in the garden seemed to want to be her – but I'd never seen her up close as a child, and when I came of age, she was down south in Falena watching all those goings-on. When she returned she took her place among the elders, teaching her own particular students. By then I was out of the garden as often as in. So I hardly knew her, though I knew she could nail a hummingbird at a hundred paces. I knew she was strict and fair, and the elders didn't frown at her, even though she'd killed some people who weren't her designated targets. Nether Gate mooks. I suppose that counted for something. From what I saw, even from far off, she had a way with her, a distant seriousness that made the elders purr, and a still more distant humor that must have kept her from going crazy.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into her office and she knew who I was.

She was behind her desk, a surprisingly slight woman with close cropped auburn hair and sharp blue eyes. Those eyes lit up when she saw me, then her mouth pressed into an unwelcoming line. "Hello, Elza."

I brought my fist to my shoulder. "Master Cathari. I was told to come to you. I have a request – "

"I know why you're here." She leaned her small chin in her palm, but there was nothing lazy or indifferent in the gesture. "And no, I don't think you should."

I hunted for words. I'm certain my face didn't change, but she probably knew anyway. "I believe I have the skill to become a Knight Gunner." Her flat blue stare told me to just shut up and put myself out of my misery, but I pushed on. "I am asking permission to commence training for the trial." Cathari shook her head. I knew that she'd taken over the Knight trials ever since she'd returned, and in that time twelve gunners had gone into the Blood Rooms and none had come out alive. "I'm stronger than them," I burst out. With a short breath, I steadied my voice, even lifted the corner of my mouth into a smile. "I think I deserve a shot."

"I know what you can do," Cathari said, a bit of a smile on her mouth. "You're one of Sauro's three. Three students out of your class survived to adulthood. I don't know whether we're proud of you or disgusted with him. And I suppose –" she stood "– you and the other two want to test your luck further."

"I'm not speaking for them."

"You don't have to. When you were younger, you kept a dog, didn't you?"

"How did – " I cut off my words, covering my shock.

"You three hid her well, I'll give you that. But I remember seeing you in the smoke house courtyard, getting her to roll over so you could scratch her stomach." She chuckled.

All right, fine, _master_, I'm still a better gunner than you'll ever be. "The dog's gone now, if you still want to punish us for keeping an animal."

"I know. She got too big to hide, so I let her go. But I believe I'm correct in saying that where one of you goes, the others will make it their business to follow."

"But you aren't going to let me take the trial. And you're going to keep Clive and Kelley from it too?" Words caught in my throat, then I let them out. "Damn you."

Her eyebrows jumped. "No, I'll let them through. Either is a fine candidate."

"What makes you think that – I am just as good as either of them!" I tried to control my voice, but what I wanted was to call her out, get her into the training ring and show her just how I'd survived this long. And I knew she saw it, exactly what I was thinking. So all I could do was smile, just a bit, to keep my mouth from shaking with anger.

"Elza," she said softly. "You are excellent. But I won't allow you to advance. If you become a Knight Gunner, you could be raised to Guild Master, and, I assure you, many of the elders will not welcome that."

She meant Master Dareb. "I'm not afraid of them." Right then I wasn't.

"Don't be a fool. You have enemies, and it doesn't matter how good you are once you're outgunned." She watched me, waiting to see if I'd try any other argument, and when I didn't, just tried to keep my breathing quiet, she sat down again. "Far better that you live as a simple gunner than die with one of our bullets in your chest."

I made it to the firing range, and after sundown Clive and Kelley found me still there, setting up a new target.

"I can't believe she wouldn't advance you," was the first thing Kelley said. "That's bullshit."

I didn't look up, just jammed the target into place.

"Maybe – " Kelley ducked his head, trying to catch my eye, but I wasn't cooperating. "Maybe – did she just say you need more training first?"

"She said no," I snapped, "no, not at all." I lifted my pistol and shot. Almost dead center.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What a breakthrough, Kelley." I shot again. Farther off target. Tears were burning my eyes, but they were just going to stay there, I wasn't here to cry. "Damn it."

Clive walked over and, as close as someone could to shouldering me out of the way without making physical contact, raised his rifle and fired. Not a dead shot, but closer than my last. I'd opened my mouth to say something angry, but I noticed how he was sighting through his scope like I wasn't even there, then told myself to shut up and focus. Fired. Dead center.

Clive lowered his rifle and smiled at me.

Then turned, because someone was walking towards us. Cathari didn't look at me. "Clive, Kelley, I need a word."

Kelley glanced at Clive, but Clive didn't move, so they both stayed put. Cathari acknowledged this with a small grim nod. "Sauro tells me neither of you is trying for Knight Gunner."

I stared at Clive. Damn you, don't do this.

"We..." Kelley's attention trailed to me, then back. "We decided not to."

"Is that it?" Cathari demanded. "She's not going through with it, so now none of you are?"

What none of us did was answer.

She glared at the two of them, not angry, but almost desperately. "You have a chance. Don't waste it."

No answer.

Finally, almost unwillingly, Cathari glanced at me, sighed with exasperation, then turned and left us.

I wasn't going to say anything while she was there – there was never any point in showing anything but a united front – but once she was gone I shoved Clive with all of my strength. "What the hell is wrong with you? You want to be Guild Master!"

Clive had only stumbled a bit, but he didn't fight back, and Kelley reached a hand towards me. "Elza – "

"Don't talk to me," I said, and they didn't.

The next morning, Master Dareb came to us, told us we had all been approved to begin training for Knight rank, and that we would commence immediately. He insisted.

* * *

><p><strong>2<strong>

Actually, Kelley did kiss me. A little over a couple years, until I suppose we both realized we could probably find more exciting people to kiss. That first time, I was thirteen and we were by the east fence, waiting for Clive to meet us after a class. Kelley had been turning an empty cartridge over in his hand when he not at all casually said, "Hey, Elza, have you ever kissed someone?"

"What the hell, Kelley?"

"Look, I'm just asking!"

And I was just laughing. "What. The hell. Kelley."

"Never mind." And he crossed his arms on his chest and didn't look at me.

After thinking a moment, I said, "You can kiss me."

"Huh?"

"I mean, if, like. You know. If you want to, I don't care."

Kelley, who'd just begun to lighten up, slumped.

Really, Elza. "I mean, I don't _mind_."

"Oh. Um. Cool." Then he looked around, in all directions (Master Sauro had drilled that into us, though he'd placed it in the context of looking for counter-assassins, not kissing) then leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. Really. He was always so innocent about it.

And he was so pleased he seemed to be surprised by it.

"Did you think I was going to shoot you?"

He laughed. Blushed. And said, "Don't tell Clive."

"Oh hell, no." Neither of us explained, even to ourselves, why we weren't telling Clive. He hadn't even noticed girls as girls yet. I stared off into the distance. "Can you – can you imagine his face?"

"I don't have to imagine." And Kelley lowered his eyebrows and bent his mouth into a semi-circle of deep disapproval.

"No, no, you have to start with this look of dumb amazement." I made my eyes as big and blank as possible. "_Elza? Kelley? What the howling voice hell are you doing?_"

"Yeah, and then you'd have to kiss him too, just so everything was fair."

"And then _you'd_ have to kiss him 'cause I'm not going to do all the work."

"And then when he becomes Guild Master he'll drop both of us in an oubliette for shaming the Guild and melt our guns."

"And use them for tooth fillings!"

"What the hell?"

We looked over. Clive, dusty from class, was staring at us, his eyebrows lowered dubiously.

"What the hell are you doing?" After a moment, he shook his head and sat down on my other side. "Stop laughing like that, Kelley. You sound like Elza."


	2. Chapter 2

**20**

Don't think this scar is the souvenir of some duel, or a blow I received on a dangerous job. It was nothing more than the swipe of a wild rose bramble. I was running in the dark, didn't see where I was going.

A minute's inattention and all this mess.

* * *

><p><strong>12<strong>

A gunner, Rani, crossed our path one morning, and the two of us stepped aside – there was no reason not to. But it stopped her cold and she looked at Clive and me like we'd just puked on her shoes.

I smiled. "Got a problem?"

"Yeah, tell your – tell the Guild Master he's a –" She cut her words off. Even if you weren't going after the Guild Master, you had to be careful who you criticized in the garden, especially to fellow gunners.

"What's wrong?" Clive asked. Guarded, not concerned.

She seemed about to say something, then thought better of it. "I have things to do." And walked on.

We actually had a chance to see Kelley later that day. He'd been the Guild Master for a little over a year, been with us less and less, and he was always so pleased when we could be alone. We were in his office, a rare privilege that was compromised by the mess. He jammed a bunch of papers into his desk drawer and ricocheted around, lifting the blinds, unearthing chairs, his reflection flickering off of the sacred rifle's glass case.

"So much clutter." I looked around. "Is this what we all trained as Knight Gunners for?"

"Hey, don't go on." Kelley sat on his desk. "You'll hurt Storm's feelings." He nodded towards the glass case and, idiot, did look a bit uneasy. Of course the sacred rifle has a soul, or something, in there. That's how it can choose the Guild Master. But no one ever said the rifle was a prima donna.

"Speaking of hurt feelings, what did you do to Rani? We ran into her, and she had nothing nice to say."

"Huh? Oh." He leaned forward, shoulders sloping in. "She wanted an assignment change, that's all."

"That's all?" I asked, and Kelley and Clive both braced because they knew what was coming. "She's working with Dareb, why wouldn't she want a new assignment?" I crossed the room, fighting back the sudden energy in my muscles. "And why didn't you give it to her? She doesn't need Dareb. You could have put her with Parvis or –" My voice was rising. I stopped, then smiled, sweetened a bit. "Well, go on, Guild Master. Why didn't you?"

"There's no point upsetting the balance of power, not when things are going so smoothly." Kelley glanced at me and seemed to regret it. "Look, I know how you feel about Dareb, but –"

I forgot to smile. "You damn well know how I feel about Dareb." His expression didn't change. "He puts guns to girls' heads. You know that! Why don't you run him out of the garden and have done with it?"

Kelley's hands were clamped on the edge of his desk. "It's not like I can just do that. He's an elder. Besides, that's personal business."

I turned to Clive, who had remained seated. He looked from me to Kelley, mouth canted in a thoughtful frown. Did he have the nerve to disagree with both of us?

I took a deep breath and softened my tone. "Kelley – "

"I don't want to talk about it, Elza." He glanced at me and his forehead bunched between his eyes. "And, like you said, I'm the Guild Master. So – end of discussion."

I stared at him, then wrenched my eyes away because I didn't want Kelley to see the anger. Neither of them should see it. I walked to the far wall, looking out the window at one of the compounds.

I don't remember whatever else we three tried to talk about. But I was pacing again that evening, wall to wall in my room. Clive sat on the edge of the bed, mending his long gray cloak, looking up at me from time to time, gauging.

So I smiled and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "Thinking deep thoughts?"

"I suppose."

"You going to talk? Or is it smarter just to keep your mouth shut?"

He tied off a line of stitches but didn't move to rethread his needle. "Kelley has a lot of new responsibilities."

"Sure does." My smile widened. "Like protecting Dareb."

"You don't know what Kelley's planning."

"Exactly. But wouldn't it be _so nice_ if he gave us a hint?"

Clive turned the needle over in his fingers, a surprisingly delicate – and completely unaware – movement. "He's responsible for the entire Guild now."

The smile wasn't helping. I sat down next to Clive, disregarding the cloak. "You don't think..."

"What?"

"That something's really wrong?"

"With Kelley?"

"Or the Guild."

My arm was against his, and I could feel the muscles jerk reflexively. "The Howling Voice is going to outlast Master Dareb."

"But don't you think Kelley could be trying harder to make it better?" My thoughts tracked into the past, when the three of us were younger, falling silent as we walked from the south compound to the mess hall because we had to cross the apprentice graveyard, all those dead kids who hadn't lived long enough to take their place in the Guild. Saying that we only had to wait a few more years, and then we'd be grown up and we couldn't be pushed around so much. That dog we had for a bit, Carrot. Kelley had been the one who fought the hardest to keep her alive. Clive and I kept her secret.

The thing with me and Dareb had started ages ago, when I was about fourteen. When I walked into the older, emptier wing of the stable, and I found Dareb and one of the female gunners he worked with. Walking along the far wall, and her shoulders were rigid, and that glint of light under her ear was his gun, he was holding it to the back of her head.

I wasn't sure what to think, but I knew that there is no greater insult than to shoot a gunner in the head. In an honorable duel, you fire for the body, and shooting someone from the back makes you look clumsy and cowardly. Being shot in the brain is something else, a wish for instant death with no dignity of final words and settled affairs. It betrays a fear of your target and an unwillingness to speak to them as they lie dying.

You might say, shouldn't an assassin shoot for the most vulnerable target? Maybe so. Still, no respected gunner ever points his gun at another gunner's head.

I didn't say anything at the time, only to Clive and Kelley, but over the next few months, I began to pick up hints. Female gunners complaining of having to work with Dareb. Dareb sending his ex-partners on jobs that kept them away from the garden for months. Dareb demoting some of his ex-partners. A little before I came of age, this happened to a gunner I knew, Lydia. We had sparred together, and after one of my sessions, she told me we'd have to stop because she was being sent into New Armes to watch over King Jalaat's court. She wouldn't be back for more than a year. I didn't see how this could happen, because she was an instructor, and her place was here, not in the field. Lydia had given me a withering look and told me to ask Dareb. And I'd thought back to that gun behind a girl's ear.

That night, I'd knocked on Master Sauro's door and tried to gather my observations into a solid accusation. At the end, Sauro crossed his arms and frowned down at me. "And what do you think Dareb has been doing? What exactly?"

"Sir, it can't be good."

"Elza, you are not a gunner yourself. You have no clear idea what's going on. And Dareb is an elder. You are in no position to be making claims."

Seeing other instructors and their sometimes playful violence, I'd often been grateful to be one of Sauro's students. He was tough, but I'd never seen him cruel, or unfair. This came uncomfortably close. "But sir –"

"Leave Dareb to us elders. In the meantime, if you don't want to die young, you should wait until you actually have some status before you make serious accusations."

I had seen Sauro defend weaker students against bullies and severely punish adults who broke Guild law. But it seemed that even he had the elders' interests closest to heart. I tried to put all these thoughts out of my mind until the next year, when Dareb selected me to accompany him on a job to Tinto. Kelley was with me when I got the order, and he immediately picked up my mental recoil. When he asked if I was going to be okay, I thought a long, long minute, then put my hand on my pistol and told him everything was fine.

I didn't let my guard down, always kept an eye on Dareb, and he fairly ignored me. But on the trip back, when we were a day from home, in a bare wintery forest, he put out his hand and stopped me. And when he spoke, it wasn't what I expected at all. He wanted half of my pay. As my superior, he'd already taken a large cut from the reward, which had been cleared with the Guild, and now he wanted more, which most definitely would not have been approved.

"What the hell? No, I'm not going to –"

And he put his pistol between my eyes. "Don't argue."

I'd been worried about rape, and when he brought up money, I never thought of going for my gun. I'd held guns for years, taken them apart, cleaned them, modified them, and fired them. I thought I'd seen them from every possible angle. But not this.

Before I could think – I couldn't think – he'd reached around me and taken my money bag, opening it one-handed. As he riffled through it, counting potch notes, anger washed back into me. In the folds of my cloak, my fingers twitched – could I reach my gun without him seeing? What then? Shooting a gunner in self-defense would be pardoned, but shooting an elder? What would happen to me?

He dropped my lightened purse at my feet but didn't remove his pistol, bending so he could look me in the eye. "I work hard," he said, "to make sure the Howling Voice Guild stays strong. To protect all of us from the hounds in Crystal Valley. Sauro knows this, and you should know it too."

I bent my arm, fingers lacing around my pistol's grip.

Dareb glanced down, following the movement. "You can try. If you'd rather die than lose a little potch, that's your business."

It wasn't about potch. It was about me being too frightened to think or speak. And that I let him take my money, and I said nothing, and I hated myself.

But with his pistol between my eyes, I finally managed to whisper, "Shooting a fellow gunner is punishable by death."

"Not," Dareb said, "when the Guild owes you this many favors."

Sitting there with Clive, on the bed, I wanted to ask if Kelley owed Dareb any favors. How soon before he would. But my anger couldn't push me to say it when I hardly wanted to think it at all.

Later that night, sick of the Howling Voice and its politics, I lay awake and found myself speculating what would have happened if I'd never been sold to the Guild. Not for the first time – when little, I'd dealt every day with the driving pain of being separated from my family, and I'd woken from dreams that ignored the misery of my home and just left me wanting it back. Later, I'd given myself a twisted sort of comfort trying to imagine what I might have been without all these guns and lessons and laws. My family in Sajah had no crops to gather and no potch to buy anyone else's. Maybe I would have starved to death by my sixth birthday. But maybe things would have improved. Perhaps I would have grown up alongside my older siblings, had younger brothers and sisters. What would I have done with myself? I'd never had to think about choosing a profession. What else was I good at but firing a gun? My mother was married at my age.

Tipping my head, I studied Clive. If it was hard to imagine my life in Sajah, it was impossible to think of him existing outside of the Guild. So disciplined. I might've thought his devotion to the Howling Voice was soulless if I didn't know he was so passionate about it. He was born here. For him, any life outside of these walls is an aberration.

And Kelley? I tried to imagine Kelley's other life, with him as a farmer or perhaps an animal doctor, but I just became too caught up in trying to guess what he was doing with his life now.

* * *

><p><strong>24<strong>

I should've apologized to that kid – such a sweetheart, he took my wrapped up Star and Moon after I told him a bad man was hunting me, and once he'd toted them halfway across town I had to convince him to take a reward. And then in a second I switched him around as a human shield. All so I could fire a shot I knew would be dodged.

Well, bad man. You found me.

* * *

><p><strong>13<strong>

The uneasy thing was, I was the Guild Master's best friend. If_ I_ heard people complaining, even indirectly, about him, that could only mean others had been talking even more quietly for some time. I worried for him. Being so high up, on this pinnacle, Kelley had no one standing at his back. Doing nothing while people talked left me restless, and I began to do some digging. Maybe I'd have explained it by saying I needed to know more if I was going to prove people wrong about Kelley. But really I just need to find out what was true.

Kelley was always busy, usually with the elders, so I could only listen to talk and take my findings to Clive. When he was home. The elders had us away from the garden more than ever, and always apart.

_I don't know, there's something about Judith. She's been with Covell for years and now he's been sent indefinitely to Gregminster..._

_ …apparently he and the elders decided to rebalance the payment, so now we gunners'll be lucky if we take twenty percent of the cut..._

_ …And Cathari turned Pitt away cold. Said that no one is going to be considered for Knight rank for the time being. She looks pretty angry herself..._

_ …It isn't that. This is Kelley, he wouldn't rape someone. Nicole just doesn't talk much about it. And... I suppose if anyone gets the promotion, it might as well be her..._

_ ...so when Estola found the kittens, she had the kids drown them – and they were in tears, so she had them beaten. Then the Guild Master found out and had her beaten, then he took her gun, and that's how she was banished. It's awfully extreme, I've never heard of anything like this happening... I hear they took her eyes out..._

_ ...Master Dareb told me he'd take it to the Guild Master, and he did, and bam! I've got an assignment in Razril. I could use a nice sunny beach..._

_ …Guild Master thought the toxicologist might be planning something so he had him try the medicine out on himself...nothing happened, so I guess he was lucky..._

_ ...Jannik's being sent to the Outlands, I'll bet you anything it's because he got Nicole pregnant..._

_ ...they found Dryden in the cellar, he'd been vomiting blood and by then it was too late..._

Eventually, even Clive had to accept that something was wrong. But he still argued. He didn't pace in agitation, like me. He stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, staring out the window as he turned things over while I was ostensibly already asleep. One time when I turned over and told him to come to bed, he shot me a look like I was crazy.

"That's right," I said. "I forgot that you're the only one who worries about this."

"You're worried about Kelley. I'm thinking about the elders. They're pushing him around."

"Then why doesn't he push back?"

"Why do you _want_ to think the worst about him?"

I turned my back to him. "You think I'm happy about this?"

I didn't need to see him to guess how his face looked, the jaw tight, the eyes almost painfully insistent. "Kelley's our family. We need to help him, not pile on more accusations."

I thought that over, and though I didn't turn around, I quieted my voice. "I know that. We'll talk to him. Now come on, calm down. Come to bed."

Can't say how grateful I was when he did, and I didn't let my eyes close until his breathing evened out.

* * *

><p><strong>23<strong>

I'd never seen a place as bleak as Rockland. Its bare, ragged desolation reminded me of my deepest memories of Sajah, and that its people refused to leave left me with an oddly comforting hopelessness. It's always helps to have a plan, whether or not the plan's good.

During my brief stay, I often found myself walking the small graveyard. The Rocklanders never inscribe names or birth and death dates. They prefer to describe themselves, then leave nothing more than last words, advice to those who walk the tombstones. _Here lies a young mother: Jeremy, please watch over my son. Here lies a one-armed soldier: I cannot forget the snowy heights of Tigerwolf. Here lies a penniless scholar: I have followed the Sindar and now we will walk together._

The stonecarver of Rockland had three young daughters and hardly any potch.

I thought, what if? What if there was a woman who died? Alone and broken on the street?

What if her last words were to a man, apologizing that she could not live long enough to die at his hand? What if she insisted his name be carved on the stone itself?

I paid the carver.

My man is sure to find the tombstone. He won't believe it. But I envy whoever sees his face when it happens.

* * *

><p><strong>14<strong>

"It's not often I get a personal invitation. I'm flattered."

"C'mon, don't –" Kelley never liked blandishments, even as a joke, so he started to cut me off. Then his mouth tightened and he only made a vague, dismissive gesture. It was early morning, the time most of the elders spent together, a brief moment of solitude for the Guild Master. I walked slowly around his office, still wondering why I'd been sent for but not Clive. I'd have to work hard to explain my absence if I didn't want to Kelley's oversight to hurt Clive's feelings.

I kept my voice light. "So what's going on?"

"I..." Kelley trailed off in thought. Was never much good at covering when he needed to think something through. "I need your help with Guild business. That is... the elders – I want to try an experiment."

"I hope you aren't going to cut me open. I won't like that."

"No. It's – we're trying to get more information about Storm. How it thinks and...things. Do you mind?"

I didn't know much about Storm. It was an ancient gun, one of the first made, with some soul or consciousness inside of it – I've no idea who was willing to make such an ultimate donation. The elders used it to determine who would be Guild Master, though I didn't know exactly how.

"What do you want me to do?"

Kelley lifted Storm from its glass case, laying the long rifle across his desk. "It's empty. Could you just lift it and pull the trigger?"

"And then what?"

He looked preoccupied, though his eyes were fixed on me. "Huh?"

"Should I wait to hear a voice? Does Storm talk?"

He made another, quicker gesture. "Just lift it and pull the trigger. Then we'll – see what happens."

So I did.

Storm had a good weight and a pretty way of tucking itself against my shoulder. The trigger went smooth as a blink, and the rifle made a click in its depths, the aggrieved _tsk_ of an empty weapon.

I lowered Storm and looked at Kelley. He was leaning heavily over his desk, staring at me. His eyes were lined and dark – he looked like a little boy again, after the lesson when Jenna died.

"Kelley?"

He shook his head. "That's all, Elza."

I set the gun down. Why on earth was I holding the Guild Master's rifle? "Kelley, what's going on? What were you doing?"

"We'll talk about it later, when – It's fine." He walked around the room and opened the door for me.

"I suppose I can't demand an answer of the Guild Master?"

He flinched. "Listen – I'm sorry. But you'd do me a favor if you didn't talk about this. To Clive even. Okay?"

I stared at him. Smiled. "As ordered, sir." Then walked past him without looking. If he thought I was presenting my back to him, he didn't order the appropriate punishment.


	3. Chapter 3

**22**

He's never been far from my thoughts, these past few years. I knew getting away from the garden would only be the first of many escapes. Someone would have to finish the elders' work, and he's the only one with a hope of killing me.

I have never been chased like this before. I was raised to be a predator. And while there's something thrilling in the danger, and soothing in knowing how it will end, I can't say I face this with much pleasure. Every step is a reminder of what happened, a new anger. A new regret. Every new escape reminds me that this is how it shouldn't be.

Is he willing to kill without hearing a word of my explanation? Is it worth it to me to give it?

He'll never give up the chase, no matter where I take him. I suppose I'll never be entirely alone.

So there's a certain satisfaction in prolonging it.

* * *

><p><strong>15<strong>

It was a cold morning and I was all for sleeping in. Unsure what had woken me, I glanced around the gray-hazy room, then pressed closer to Clive, watching his eyelashes flutter but not part. After a moment, I dropped my own eyes closed again.

Then heard the step at my door and the quiet scrape against the floorboards.

Opened my eyes, listened, and barely caught the sound of someone moving down the hall. Lifted myself on one elbow. The light was bad, but I could just make out the edge of white paper under my door.

I got out of bed without waking Clive and, shivering, picked up the note, moving to the vague light from my window.

_You are required in the Deep Hall. _

Deep Hall is the lowest chamber in the garden, reserved only for private negotiations among the elders and the Guild Master. I had no idea what went on down there, or why I might be wanted.

My thoughts shifted back to the touch of a rifle on my shoulder and cheek, the easy pull of a trigger.

I looked past the note to Clive. Opened my mouth to say his name. Glanced down at the note again. Deep Hall. Could I afford to ignore the summons? And if this cold shiver under my skin was a warning, could I outfight the elders? No, and no. Then – if I was in danger, could I afford to risk Clive?

He was turned away from me, and I studied the familiar line of his shoulder, the half-hidden jaw and cheek. My heart sank, very softly. No. Absolutely not.

Deep Hall is the elders' sanctum, but it also belongs to the Guild Master. On that thought, I ripped up the note and dropped it into the dim coals in my shallow fireplace, covering the shreds over. Furthermore, I told myself as I dressed, the Howling Voice would not take all the time to train a Knight Gunner, take such pride in her, to – to what? Deep Hall is the elders' private suite, not the Blood Rooms or the execution range. It's not even an oubliette, though it's lower than any of those.

Because I was being allowed admittance to such a sacred area, I knew better than to appear in anything but full dress. I strapped on my pistol, then dragged on my long white cloak. With that, there was no reason to shiver and no reason to delay.

Halfway out the door, I looked back. Clive had turned over, profile outlined against the pillow. What would he think, if he knew where I was going?

He would tell me to go. But he would be second-guessing it too.

I stepped through and shut the door.

Cathari met me at the top of the stairs that led down to the garden's lower levels. She too wore her cloak, the brown hood pulled down, her mouth set in a severe line. She didn't speak or nod when I approached, just turned and started walking, lifting a wall lantern. Doorways passed. It was colder farther down, but neither suffocatingly close nor obviously darker. The stones were dry and well-maintained.

We came to the bottom and Cathari unlocked the door, preceded me through, waited to lock it again behind us. There were guards on the inside, two older gunners I couldn't remember seeing before. Cathari led me down a long, bare hallway cut from a warm-looking stone, past several more doorways. We went right to the end, where two more unfamiliar guards awaited us. Cathari bowed to the doors before opening them but didn't look back to see if I followed suit. I instantly heard talking where before there was perfect silence – the room beyond was soundproofed.

It was a long, empty chamber with no further doors leading off from it. A small crowd inside, some standing at attention, others pacing, several arguing. I counted them off – all the elders. At the far end, leaning against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, was Kelley, the hood of his green cloak on his shoulders. He noticed me at the same moment, his eyebrows coming together. Pushing himself off the wall, he spoke in a loud voice. "All right, clear out. I'll talk to you all when it's over."

"Guild Master," Dareb said, "there should be a witness to the proceedings –"

"Storm will be witness enough." He wasn't wearing the rifle, rather had it slanted against the wall. "Leave us."

Master Sauro stared intently at Kelley, something uncertain in his face. "You understand what must be done?"

"This is not for the elders' eyes," Kelley said. "It only concerns the Guild Master."

"As you say," said Dareb.

I stood still as the elders filed past me, waiting until the door was shut before I spoke. "Do you speak that way with them often?" I doubted it. With the elders gone, I scanned the room again, seeing if there was anything I might have missed in the crowd.

There was a table with a wooden, silver-laced case across it.

"Why am I here?"

Kelley was walking towards the table. When he neither stopped nor looked at me, I realized I'd been hoping he would. Instead he spoke as he freed a series of locks, worked the case's clasps. "You're here because I can't pull Storm's trigger."

"What?"

"I never have." He lifted the lid. "The elders chose me as Guild Master, but when I tried to take up Storm, it rejected me. I can't lead the Guild while Storm wants a different master."

"Kelley –"

"And the only solution –" he eased something free of the case " – is to prove my superiority over Storm's chosen master." He turned, a pistol in each hand.

"_Kelley_. Are you insane?"

* * *

><p><strong>25<strong>

I didn't know if it would work or not – I supposed it wouldn't – but I asked him to let me go. Just walk away, and let me vanish back into the past. After so much running and so many traps, it was a relief to speak gently. Standing there in Radat's tavern, I reminded him what we'd been to each other. More than friends. Family.

His face broke. But whatever else crossed his features, he answered with anger. Maybe speaking of the past was unfair of me, but when was the last time I was fair? We've come too far to spare feelings. I have outstripped the Guild, and he clings to it to keep his balance, and once I'm dead, maybe he'll find his purpose again. But if we are both gunners, we should meet this with the clinical detachment of our craft.

But he told me we are not two gunners. I am only a criminal.

I smiled, just to be sure I didn't speak, not yet, and not simply to see the fury in his eyes again. After all these years, after all I've been through, I am not every inch the gunner you are?

He lifted Storm, I lifted Star and Moon. Storm wouldn't let him fire. It would have been simple enough to aim for his torso and, in a gunners' duel, only the coward dodges. It would have been the easiest kill.

But I aimed for his shoulder and his leg, pulled each trigger. After all, he's made such a good effort.

* * *

><p><strong>16<strong>

Kelley hesitated after my question, gathering himself. "We're going to duel, Elza. Take Star."

"Kelley, I don't want to be Guild Master. Why the hell are we fighting?"

"Because Storm wants you. It can't accept me while you're alive."

I fought back my incredulity and anger, hunting for the truth. "Are you drugged? Did the elders give you something?"

He was walking towards me, the pistols still in his hands, not cocked to fire. "Elza, this is my decision. Take Star."

"You're going to kill me? Kelley, I'm _Elza_, damn you. I'm your best friend. I'd die before I hurt you!"

He smiled, briefly. "What about your pride as a gunner? No friend of mine would let herself be cut down."

"She will before she kills you."

Any faint pleasure – or pride? – left Kelley's eyes. "Clive's a Knight Gunner too. It may be that Storm won't accept me even when you're dead." He swallowed. "I'll have to see about Clive."

On instinct, I was reaching for Star. But I jerked my hand back. I could feel myself shaking, anger and denial and a rising, careening fear. "Why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer, his jaw tight.

Anything would have been better. I pushed my hand out, palm up, and he dropped Star into it, walked away before I'd even closed my fingers. Already he was waiting at the far end of the room. His voice didn't falter as he began the duelists' invocation, calling upon the shadow.

* * *

><p><strong>26<strong>

He always did heal nicely. And if I know him well enough to bank on that, he should already know why I didn't shoot to kill.

On the rough, windy height of Jowston Hill, he told me Kelley and the Guild were all that ever mattered to him, that now he only had the Guild. With my back to him and Storm, it was easy to hide what I felt. I'd never wanted to think that my actions had tainted every memory of me, but I suppose I should have faced that a long time ago. After one moment, everything we'd been no longer matters.

Kelley's gone, and my only link to the Guild are these guns and this death sentence. And now, these shared memories are no longer mine. What then? What have I ever had?

What do I have left?

The Howling Voice Guild has brought nothing good, and if I can escape it, why can't he? Perhaps I did stop something, the day Kelley and I dueled. Perhaps I halted a worse, darker descent. For both of them.

If I couldn't convince him, I could still command Storm, and one word ended any hope for a duel. At least that day.

There is one other thing I had and lost. I want to see it again before I die.

* * *

><p><strong>17<strong>

The invocations numbed me even as they set my heart beating harder, a quickening countdown to the moment I pulled the trigger, the bullet exploding, the pistol hardly recoiling against the heel of my hand. I never thought to dodge, my eyes fixed forward.

My bullet hit Kelley in the stomach, blood spraying across his cloak. He staggered. I glanced down at myself, knowing it was there, even if I hadn't felt it. My wound.

But in all the white folds of my cloak, there wasn't a drop of red.

I stared at Kelley. And ran for him.

* * *

><p><strong>27<strong>

There is nothing familiar in Sajah, not a glimmer of recognition. I can't guess which street my family lived on, and when I search through the graveyard, I don't see their names. I don't know what I'd meant to do, had I found them still living.

Still, there's a certain peace, walking these streets that belong to me, even if we no longer know each other.

* * *

><p><strong>18<strong>

I caught Kelley against my chest. He spat blood across me, and I tried to hold him steady. "Kelley –" I didn't recognize my voice, high and rough. "– _why_ – what's –"

Kelley leaned heavily against me, and there was something cold in my hand – Moon, the other pistol, he pressed my fingers around it. "I – called off the guards. You need to run."

"This is the elders' fault – they told you to – Kelley, look at me! Kelley, please!"

He smiled, blood in his teeth. "Never – mind the elders. It's my fault." He swallowed. "I couldn't hurt you."

He didn't even fire? "I don't want to hear this, I want you to get up! Please, just try –"

He shook his head, closed his eyes, his temple resting against my collar bone. All he could say then was that he'd loved me and Clive. All that and he was dead. When he went still, I pulled him closer, as if that would make him wake up and squirm away, but he only resettled, unresisting. My pulse felt like it was beating through my bones.

The elders would come soon, and no one could outfight all those guns. I grabbed Star. The guards were gone – gone from the dueling chamber, gone from the bottom of the stairs. I ran into the main compound and in a distant way saw some others were training, glancing at me as I passed. And my cloak was streaked red now, and someone shouted, and I cocked Star. The Guild Master was dead and no mercy would be shown to his murderer.

There were no guards at the front gates. There were no guards at the western checkpoint.

And when I stumbled to a halt the night, in the forest, with blood pouring down my cheeks from the senseless swipe of a bramble, I found no bullets inside of Moon.

* * *

><p><strong>28<strong>

For the first time in a long time, my smile is real. It's the way he sets Storm's butt against the ground and just lets the sacred rifle drop, letting the dust rise in Sajah's hot street. And he doesn't even flinch, doesn't look for a moment like he doesn't trust my sense of fair play as I walk towards him with two pistols in hand. You poor boy. You do so beautifully in your own world of laws and bullets, but you've never understood any of this.

Never mind. Pick your weapon.

He chooses Star. Predictable. I step back, running my thumb along the curve of Moon's grip, the opal handle catching the flares of the sun.

There is no talk of executioners and criminals. For the last time, we're equals. I begin the gunner's invocation.

* * *

><p><strong>6<strong>

When I was seventeen, I came back from one of my first long solo missions, three months in Grassland, and found out that Clive had been seen lingering around the western checkpoint for the past week. I could only hope he was on the lookout, waiting for my return – I convinced myself that as his best friend, I was entitled to some separation anxiety on his part. Still, I had to know for sure, so I hunted him down, an easy smile on my mouth and my heart hammering light and quick against my breastbone.

"I was checking the west fence for signs of damage," was how he explained it, averting his eyes.

"You terrible liar. I was _missed_. Imagine that. What, didn't Kelley keep you company?"

He shrugged. "It wasn't the same."

I stared at him. Then took him by the shoulders, which surprised him, but he didn't pull away, and now he had to look at me.

I'd expected to continue on a smiling superiority. And while I kept the smile, the softness in my voice surprised me. "Well. That's good news." And I leaned up, for a moment breathing on his skin, giving him every chance to say _what the hell, I wasn't hoping for this_.

But apparently he was.

* * *

><p><strong>29<strong>

I am watching you now, through the invocations, each line, each motion as we cock Moon and Star perfectly measured. Your eyes are narrowed, hand steady. My heart is pounding again, harder than ever, and I have to speak, to throw you off, or to speak the truth, or to prolong this one more moment. The last line of the invocation. The last breath before we fire. I shout your name. You tell me – you – the both of us not to hesitate.

* * *

><p><strong>10<strong>

Clive was the last to pass through the Blood Rooms. Kelley first, then me, then six hours with the two of us waiting in the hall outside, thinking about our aching, still-running wounds, not our worry. We hadn't celebrated, even though both of us were now Knight Gunners, the highest rank below Guild Master and elder. We couldn't feel triumphant until Clive came through in one piece.

It was near midnight when the door cranked open and Cathari stepped out, a bit of shock, a great deal of approval on her face. And Clive was at her heels. He had a bad wound across his forehead, and he was holding his left arm awkwardly. The three of us were about brainwashed with relief, and we stumbled into each others' arms. Cathari said nothing, which was good of her. We were by no means the only friends to be found within the Guild, but such unreasoned displays of affection were never permitted outside of closed doors. But for the time being, Cathari left us to ourselves.

We couldn't really say much – Kelley swore, and Clive laughed raggedly, and I smiled, really meaning it, and kissed them both I don't know how many times. Mainly I remember how hard we held on to each other, resting our foreheads together.

* * *

><p><strong>30<strong>

You stand far from me, a perfect gunner, and let me have my say, because anything else would be an act of cowardice. Your eyes are hard. I can feel Star's bullet in me every time I breathe.

You don't move, don't seem to hear a thing when I tell you Moon wasn't loaded. Perhaps you've had your fill of my tricks.

But you oblige me when I ask to hold Storm. If it's ruined my life, it's time I held it as my own. The rifle settles across me, and you even take the sight of that, me with Kelley's weapon, your weapon, stoically. You've passed it to me without touching, and you step back. I can feel my wound bleeding down my skin, soaking the top of my white Guild cloak. It eases the burden from my heart.

And when I tell you the truth, the truth about Kelley's death, your eyes widen. But it's when I thank you for this, for rebalancing the scales between Kelley and me, for returning me to Sajah, that I can see it: your stance shifts, your breathing catches. You are going to falter.

No. I've already taken too much from you. I laugh. I fire Moon into the air. There. You see? There's no tragedy. It's just lies.

Poor boy. Now you don't know what to believe, and while I'm telling you to take Storm, and go home, and be happy in your place within the Guild, you are knees to the dirt, shouting my name. Your hands are on either side of my face. You and your dark cloak are blotting out my last sight of the sun.

That's all right.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: And that's the end. As a last note, Elza's behavior in the final scene of Clive's quest is confusing at best, and fans have different theories about why she lies to him. Credit goes to YouTube commenter P0ko4Sh0 for suggesting she does it so Clive won't be so resentful that he can't return to the Guild. That's not precisely the motive I'm working with here, but it was my starting point. <em>


End file.
